#it dosent help that Al dosent understand anything either so she feels that she was about to do

[omi-papus]

Over bones Part (1/2)

She had suddenly tensed up, showing a horrified expression on her face, and shuffled away from him, as much as she could in the minuscule bed they were in, turning her back and curling tightly into a ball. This left him dumbfounded after he got over being startled by the sudden action, especially after she had gotten so close to his face. The fingers that had brushed his cheek suddenly tore their nails into him slightly when she yanked her hand away as she changed her disposition seemingly out of nowhere again. "Again" because just a quarter of a second before her attitude had shifted also, from the somewhat exasperated fondness he could detect on her expression, that over the course of ten point three seconds distorted into half-lidded eyes and heavier breathing, the color of her face darkening slightly.

He cut himself off, having been speaking about how he hoped he could... that he could protect her, once he had the capacity to, once he better controlled the body, or even if, in a frankly fantastical scenario, managed to obtain an architect vessel again. She had just fought off a man who was apparently a victim of the original owner of his body. Whose company he had apparently destroyed through his connections over some petty disagreement. He felt tempted to condemn Alan Whelihan. His apparent long list of enemies and history of pain through both major and minor offenses that while not directly violent, caused so much hurt that he had to wonder how he lived with it. More so, he was upset at now being forced to live with the consequences of his actions, but he realized, in a way, it worked out. He had caused infinitely more pain than probably any other individual ever could. In reality, the consequences he faced were utterly disproportionate. And it did not help when Robin actively prevented him from suffering them. She was strong. The most physically adept human he had yet to meet, and she guarded him from the assault with thankfully minimal injury.

Still... he could barely stand it, just the idea of her being in danger because of him tore him apart, and he would prefer she just left him to his fate and protected herself. He knew she wouldn't do that. He even knew that she wasn't even like that because of him, she would put herself in harm's way seemingly for no reason. So he wished that at least he could aid her in some greater way when it came to such things. For now, all he could do revolved around his managerial position. Ensuring her work went smoothly and that she was treated with as much dignity as her performance deserved. But still, he wanted to be of more use to her, and it was when he dropped her off at her minuscule, borderline uninhabitable apartment, where she, like usual, invited him to come in and rest with her, did he begin to express all these things to her. And at some point during his ramblings, he stopped mid-word as he felt her fingertips trace his jaw and her face approaching his own. Her eyes switched rapidly between his own and something slightly lower. She was warm, and her breath smelled a type of rancid that he has begun to have some sort of familiar fondness for. And even faster, her eyes flared open, her whole body retracted, and she faced away from him, hugging herself tightly.

Alan: Robin?

She did not respond, she did start trembling, and the red tint could now be seen on her shoulders.

Alan: Robin, what is happening? Are you concussed? Does something hurt?

He sat up with his usual difficulty and placed his hand on her arm; she fully spasmed, and right then she jumped off the bed and walked to lock herself in the bathroom. He called out for her again, compleatly unable to imagine why she would suddenly be acting this way.